Stretchmarks
by addictedtolove92
Summary: Stretchmarks are a girl's best friend.


_Author's Note: This is my very first shot at SVU fic. I'm just testing the waters and hoping that you guys like it. This is totally Nick/Olivia . . . or Olivia/Nick (I like ON much better than NO). Have a nice read!_

**Stretchmarks**

Olivia has stretchmarks; not too noticeable, but noticeable enough that she knows that they're there. Most of the time she's grateful for them because they're hard earned. She's waited most of her life for them and she hardly ever complains about it. She occasionally uses them as leverage in disagreements. When her husband _thinks _he has the upperhand in any argument—or when he's actually winning said argument—she'll just fix him with a "well I carried them for 9 agonizing months" and he'll eventually cave.

Mirrors are evil and brutally honest. Liv runs her fingers through her dark tresses and sighs. Sometimes she feels too old to be mother to a ten, five, and three year old—mostly because the kids wear her out. Other times she feels young, energetic, and vibrant. She likes to think Nick is the reason for that. When the kids aren't running her ragged, or she's not working, he usually keeps her on her feet. 'Sleep is for the rich, and that's not us' he says. Maybe she shouldn't have started her family so late in life. Forty-four is not usually the ideal age to have a baby, after all. She finds herself thinking that way a lot. She'll stop herself, though, because she can't imagine her twenty-something-self getting married and starting a family. That would have been an epic disaster. Twenty-something Olivia knew nothing about family, had never been witness to a healthy relationship, and certainly had no idea what it was to keep it together. Truth is; she barely has the skills now. She's just going with her gut and hoping that it's right. If it wasn't for Nick's utter patience and determination, she's sure she'd still be alone and single because those brick walls around her were built for resilience.

Her relationship with Nick has never been easy; it's been a turbulent airplane ride at best. He's six years her junior and that alone had her questioning the relationship. But if it wasn't one thing, it was another. It started out with his ex, Maria, and her problems with PTSD. Olivia knew enough about that at the time to be understanding. Then it was Nick's problems with attaining custody of Zara. Liv's never had a problem with Nick wanting to have sole custody of his daughter, she supported him in every decision he made, especially pertaining to her. But it seemed like whatever she tried to do to help the situation, it ended up backfiring. That alone almost caused the two to end their rocky relationship a number of times—amongst other things. If it wasn't for the fact that Olivia found out she was pregnant, they probably wouldn't have made it.

But low and behold 7 ½ months later Stella Jade Amaro was born. Her pregnancy was stressful what with morning sickness and having to quickly become mother to Zara. The first half she spent worshiping the Porcelain Gods and the last few months were spent on bed rest. While she didn't particularly _enjoy _it very much, she wouldn't trade it for the world. After all, the end result were her dreams come true—because after yearning for a child, praying that she'd one day get her chance to be the mother she knew she could be, it happened.

Stella is a force; a fierce, five year old ball of energy. She alone is the cause for many of Olivia's headaches. From day one, Liv and Nick knew that they had an active one on their hands. Stella has to stay busy. It's not ADHD—they had her tested. The little girl is just full of life and laughter and pure joy. It's really actually contagious. Liv has no idea where she gets it from; maybe it skipped a generation or maybe she gets it from Nick. Wherever she gets it from; she thanks them immensely.

Of course naturally there's an inevitable downside—she loves to talk. She talks nonstop at school, at home, anywhere she goes. Anything comes out of her mouth, at any given moment. Embarrassing right? Yes. 'Daddy says mommy looks beautiful in her birthday suit' or 'Mommy, that man is little!' Or Liv's personal favorite 'Mommy and daddy were making a lot of noises last night in their bedroom.' The list goes on . . . and on . . . and on with that child. Olivia can never say her life lacks any excitement, not that it didn't to begin with.

She thanks Sammy for her stretch marks. She gained so much weight it was unreal. She'd look in the mirror and hardly recognize herself. Atleast she didn't have to spend it in bed though, she actually got the chance to enjoy it. Little Sammy let his presence be known the moment he discovered his legs. They started out as small, barely there thumps below her belly button, but as the pregnancy progressed his kicks became more proclaimed and painful. She spent more time talking to her belly in hopes that her voice would soothe him and he'd stop—that would never work. If anything, it'd make him kick harder in apparent excitement. Now that she thinks about it, everything excited her son; especially food. To this day, Sammy will choose food over almost anything. If it wasn't for them saying no, he'd probably weigh over 100 pounds.

Liv turns as she hears the pitter patter of feet against the floor, then Nick's stern voice fussing at their naked son to come back to bathroom. If he could, Sammy would be naked 24/7. Literally the moment they set foot in the house, all Sammy's clothes are left in a pile in front of the door and he runs around in his undies for the duration of the day. If they happen to stop home on the way somewhere else, it's typically a fight to keep him fully clothed.

"Mommy, look!" Sammy exclaims as he tramps into the bedroom, a huge smile on his face.

He's all Nick; from his dark, thick mane right down to his forever cold 'toey toes'. She looks at him and wonders where she is in him. Then he says or does something that she would do—right down to the 't'—and she knows. He may look exactly like his daddy and want to do everything daddy does, but he's mommy's little man at the end of the day.

"I hide from daddy," he whispers as Liv kneels down to his level.

Just as she's opening her mouth to say something, in his 'big bad wolf' voice, Nick announces his impending arrival, "I want Sammy Bear."

Startled, Sammy runs toward the bed and burrows into his parents' downy comforter and their heap of pillows. He pokes his head out from underneath with his index finger against his lips. "Ssssshhhhh," he says to his mommy as he recovers his body.

"Where. Is. Sammy Bear!" Nick growls entering the bedroom, his sights set on Olivia. "Where is he, Mommy Bear?"

Deciding to go with the flow, Olivia's eyes widen and she plays the role of scared yet protective Mommy Bear. "I don't know, Mr. Wolf, sir. I haven't seen him."

Nick sniffles hard. "You're lying! I smell his," _sniffle_, "shampoo. Now tell me, Mommy!"

Hearing this, Sammy giggles in excitement.

"No," Liv shouts, "I will not let you get him."

"Fine! If you will not tell me where Sammy Bear is, I will eat you instead."

Liv feigns a terrified gasp and covers her face with her hands. "No!" she cries in her best imitation of a damsel in distress.

Nick saunters over to Liv and places his hands on her arms then draws her into him. He begins gently biting at her neck as she 'cries' and begs him to stop. Sammy jumps from under the covers growling and baring his teeth. "Let Mommy Beawr go, Big Bad Wolf!"

Nick throws Liv onto the bed next to Sammy. "There you are! I'm gonna eat you!"

Sammy covers his face with his tiny hands as his daddy grabs his body and blows raspberries on his belly.

"Noooooooooooo," he laughs grasping Nick's hair.

These days the smile on Liv's face is a permanent fixture. Her family has everything to do with that. She can't imagine where she would be without them. They make life worth living, they make her appreciate her pain and suffering, they make it all relevant.

Liv's no longer an SVU detective, but instead works more behind the scenes. A desk job is more suitable for her at this time in her life. She wants to be there for her family for as long as she can. She doesn't regret her decision to let SVU go; she's spent her entire career giving herself to victims, giving herself to the job. Now she wants to give herself, completely, to them. They need her now. It's her job to protect them now, to shelter them from the things she's witnessed.

Nick wraps their son back in his towel and stands him up on the bed. "It's time for bed, little guy."

"I not little guy, daddy, I Sammy Beawr!" he growls, his hands on Nick's cheeks.

"Well, Sammy Bear, it's bedtime. So let's get your pajamas on—"

"I can do it!" he exclaims holding out his arms for Nick to put him on the floor.

"Alright," he agrees setting him down. "I'll be there in a second," Nick calls after him.

It is very evident that Sammy doesn't hear him as he goes growling out of the room.

"No running, Sam!" Liv exclaims.

"He'll probably have his pants on backwards."

"And you know how he skips right over his underwear," Liv laughs.

"You sure you don't wanna handle him tonight?"

She nods, "Positive."

"Maybe we can do it togeth—"

"If I can handle Miss I-took-a-bath-last-night **and **the sick one, you can handle the three-year old. Just fix him with your stern fatherly stare; that's foolproof."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Then, and only then, do you call for backup even though I'm sure you won't need it," she says burrowing deep into the warmth of the comforter.

"You'll probably be fast asleep," Nick retorts making his way toward the door.

"I doubt it. You know how hard it is for me to go to sleep without you," Liv answers with a slight flirtatious undertone.

"You're all talk."

One eyebrow raised, Liv answers matter-of-factly, "You'll see when you come to bed. I'd hurry if I were you."

Liv's never been one for the mushy, gushy, touchy, feely but she's married and Nick's her best friend. He's given her the best years of her life and helped make her dreams a reality.

They may be slightly unattractive and mildly unnerving to look at but she can't help the smile that forms when she looks at them. Hell, as far as she's concerned, stretchmarks are beautiful.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing is what I own.**


End file.
